The world turns. Constantly. Consistently. It does not stop.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
For ever and ever and ever and what changes are the things we do. The things we do. The things we do and don’t. The butterfly effect, where caterpillars writhe and revolve, like wheels which cycle and recycle but don’t evolve, don’t involve me.
I can see the road from above the earth, caught between trees and bridges, and everyone is driving, but the world is turning in the opposite direction too fast and everyone is stuck, like going up the down escalator. Ants, travelling with purpose to a destination that they will never reach.
Drive faster, but the world is a conveyer.
Tick, tock, knock, knick your thumb on a splinter. It is winter and the cold is creeping in and over and out and you are sat about in your pants watching NETFLIX, DISNEY CHANNEL, NOW TV, BBC, BBC, ITV, I see, I see you.
Everything is changing but it’s only getting worse. It’s only getting worse.
Is that a hurst or are the cliches staying out? I am about to puke.
In the toilet bowl it swills and the bits that float there make shapes like countries on a map. Flush. Flush. Swirl. Whirl.
Say goodbye, that was the old world, that you just hurled down the drain. Lie back against tiles and see your pain as the earth spins and your desire wins, to close your eyes and forget everything.